Thank you for keeping my promise. That day at recess. The clear sky let the sun beat down on all our classmates running over the blacktop, rushing into box ball and wall ball cliques. A fast-moving game of soccer transpired parallel to the over-crowded jungle gym. I stood, an island in a sea of childhood chaos.

              Depression circled my neck, reached down, set roots. The sense of an outcast taking deeper hold. The constant cut of never chosen, never fit in, and it fed the coldness filling my veins. A long tunnel of loneliness loomed before me where I would break in the worst ways well before I grew to be better. I tied a rope of words around my waist as tight as a drowning man’s grip and threw it to you through time and pain. I gave it a good tug and fell.

              The fall from childhood was as rough. The relentless drag through adolescence was excruciating. Tricked to eat dog cookies by friends showed you the worst in people. Chairs pulled out after offered cracked the easy trust you had in others. Teachers ignore quiet messages for help. Coaches provided lackluster examples of leadership you emulated. Employers who’d abuse their power left you understaffed, overworked, and with a shattered confidence. Friends invited you to parties of fake booze. Relegated to the side, unable to figure out how to join the conversations. You always tried, even when those dark roots murmured you knew better.

              You made it to college; a fresh start with fear and hope. Determined to break open old wounds and irregular healed ideals to become more than the wisp of a shadowed version of you. You stumbled into new social situations. A gifted painting with the wrong words caused instant shame. The party with the over drinking leading to a solo cry-filled walk back to campus. Hard words spoken to the wrong people destroying minted bonds. Broken trust was all you knew. Cruel words were your diet for nine years. That childhood coldness still clung to your soul, no matter how you tried to escape. Still, you tried.

              The rope held as you climbed, fibers cutting into raw hands. Knees scrapped; body battered from each new situation bulldozed through a well-worn comfort zone to reach. All this, to find yourself in the sun. Surrounded by people seeking you out. Habits I fought to lose were a distant memory for you. The ever-present pain is a remote echo. People reach out to speak with, celebrate, comfort, raise you up. Confidence rebuilt shard by shard; your head raised high with a hard-won amiable smile and soft words. You climbed with depression’s rusted weights, constantly coaxing you to fall back into the easy darkness.

              I am unbelievably proud of you. How you’ve become the person I needed. You never let go, even when your hands, head, and heart were tired from the constant attempts to grow. You become the best version of us the dark told us we never could be. All the times we slid back into old habits and a bad mindset, you wiped your hands and started again. You showed me we can survive anything, even the worst of ourselves.

              Thank you for standing in the sun, where I promised to survive all the struggles ahead of us and make it back to who I always was and will be. Where we’d have better days because we would make them shine, surrounded by authenticity and support. You didn’t simply survive; you created a path with every struggled step for others to follow on their own journeys. I’m honored to be the start of you, to grow into you. I’m proud of the strength you found in a relentless world.

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